A Chance of Redemption
by Catmint
Summary: A Snape-survives fic centred on the trial Severus Snape has to undergo for the murder of Albus Dumbledore. Justice and a fair trial offer him a chance of redemption, but will that happen? And can Narcissa Malfoy, too, find redemption?
1. Prologue

I have no idea how long it's been since I last posted, other than it must be at least 3 years. An English Lit degree, dyslexia, fibromyalgia, society presidency and organising a major folk festival took over my life. Not to mention my original fiction!

One of my friends was recently trying to find decent-quality Snape-survives fics. About 3 days ago I got inspired to write, and the result is A Chance of Redemption. Enjoy!

Prologue

"He wasn't Voldemort's," Harry Potter declared as he stepped in front of Hagrid, who was holding Professor Snape's limp body, and Professor McGonagall.

Dumbfounded silence fell amongst those within earshot.

Neville Longbottom reached out and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He killed Dumbledore, Harry. You saw him do it."

Harry sighed. "It's complicated. But please, don't put him with the other Death Eaters. Put him – put him with Tonks and Lupin. Please trust me on this."

McGonagall gave him an incredulous look, but then relented. "Fine, then, Potter." She and Hagrid changed direction.

An exhausted blonde witch approached them as Hagrid laid Snape carefully on the floor. Her eyes widened and she gasped in shock. "_Severus_? What – what happened?"

"Nagini," McGonagall told her softly. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. I know he was close to your family."

Narcissa Malfoy covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to hold back her tears, and knelt down on the floor. "I'm sorry, Severus," she whispered. "I am _so, so sorry_. I owe you my life. More."

McGonagall knelt down beside her. "Why?"

Narcissa shook her head. "I can't. Not right now. Please, just – just leave me alone for a while."

"Of course." McGonagall began to rise – but stopped when something caught her eye. _Don't be silly_, she told herself sternly. _It's just your imagination_.

No – there it was again, a bigger movement this time. When Narcissa raised her blue eyes to the Deputy Headmistress's, McGonagall crouched down again and reached out for Snape's long, thin, pale hand. No uncertainty this time: it had moved. "_Severus_?" she asked in disbelief. She felt for a pulse in his neck; it was very weak, but it was definitely there. She quickly stood up. "Poppy!" she shouted urgently, disrupting the subdued noises in the Great Hall.

The school mediwitch, Poppy Pomfrey, was not far away, tending to a student, but hurried over, detecting the urgency in McGonagall's voice. "What is it? Natalie McDonald's got a nasty gash on her leg. I don't have time for the dead – and _certainly_ not dead Death Eaters who betrayed the Order."

"Potter says he wasn't You Know Who's. But that's not the point," added McGonagall impatiently. "The point _is _that Severus appears to be alive."

"_What_?" Pomfrey stared as Snape's eyes fluttered open and he struggled to focus. That action nudged her into her professional mode. "Severus, can you hear me?"

The current Headmaster of Hogwarts blinked slowly and dazedly. "Apparently."

"Potter said Nagini killed you," stated McGonagall.

"That's what I thought," murmured Snape, finally able to focus on Pomfrey. "But Fawkes – I remember Fawkes, after Potter left…"

Narcissa looked up at the other two women, who seemed to have forgotten that she was still there. "Fawkes? Who or what is that?"

"Dumbledore's phoenix," McGonagall softly informed her. "But he disappeared after the funeral. Nobody's seen him since."

Groaning, Snape rolled onto his side. "It would seem that he came back."

As though the full weight of what she was seeing had suddenly hit her, Narcissa shrieked and pulled him into a rib-crushing hug. "I can't believe it! You're really alive!"

Snape visibly winced. "I won't be…for much longer…if you persist…in crushing…my lungs," he wheezed.

"Sorry!" Aghast, Narcissa hastily released him and he fell back against McGonagall.

"I'm getting you to the hospital wing," Pomfrey informed him briskly. "Don't argue. Minerva will go with you. No doubt the Ministry will want to talk to you. You are wanted for _murder_, after all."

Snape met McGonagall's eyes. "Promise me you will ensure I get a fair trial?" he pleaded, his voice almost cracking. "I'll take Veritaserum, _anything_. Potter – Potter will back me up." He glanced briefly at Narcissa. "However, I draw the line at Unbreakable Vows." Narcissa cringed; McGonagall frowned in confusion and he continued. "If you get me that fair trial, all will become clear. At this moment, though, a bed and sleep would be most welcome."

"I promise," McGonagall assured him.

"Thank you."

_TBC, probably on Friday, maybe Thursday._


	2. Chapter 1

To be honest, the only reason this is in chapters is because of the word count – it was too long to be a one-shot (at least for ; anything more than about 2,500 words and people often lose interest).

Chapter 1

Three weeks later, the courtroom was packed. Everyone was there to witness Severus Snape face a murder charge. The vast majority were desperate for a 'Guilty' verdict; a few were there for entertainment and a few, such as the Malfoys, just wanted to see a fair trial.

A door banged heavily shut and the courtroom fell silent as Snape was led to the chair in the centre. He did not struggle or attempt to break free from the two Azkaban wardens who stood on either side of him, and he had his usual emotionless expression on his face. The robes he wore were clearly very expensive ones, but they did not hang well on his thin frame, obviously made for someone else.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister for Magic, got to his feet as Snape sat down and the chains snapped around his wrists. "Severus Snape," began Shacklebolt, "you have been brought here to face the charge of the murder of Albus Dumbledore last year. How do you plead?"

Snape raised his head and his black eyes calmly met the Minister's. "Not guilty."

A huge wave of muttering broke out among the audience and one young man leapt to his feet. "Liar!" he yelled angrily.

Shacklebolt loudly cleared his throat. "Please respect the court and remain silent unless directly addressed. Thank you." He looked around the room. "Any further interruptions will result in the person interrupting being immediately ejected from the court." He turned back to Snape. "Is it true that on the night Albus Dumbledore was murdered, you were present?"

"It is," replied Snape quietly.

"Reports claim that you were the one to use the Killing Curse."

"I did."

"On Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes."

"Was it, then, in self-defence? Did Dumbledore attack you first?"

"No. When I arrived on the tower, he had already been Disarmed."

"Yet despite all this, you deny murdering him?"

"I do."

Shacklebolt looked slightly perturbed. "Then explain to me – and to the court – how you can make such a claim."

Snape took a deep breath. "During the school summer holidays two years ago, Dumbledore began to track down in earnest the Horcruxes that he believed the Dark Lord to have created in his ambition to beat death and achieve his greatest desire: immortality. Dumbledore found one – a ring – and destroyed it, but because the creation of a Horcrux is so Dark, so unspeakably evil, the effect of destroying it can do great damage to the one who destroys it. I am sure many people remember the state of his hand afterwards – wrecked, withered, useless. You, Minister, must be able to recall that."

Shacklebolt nodded.

"There was nothing that either I or Poppy Pomfrey could do to reverse the effects of the curse, not even slightly. It soon became apparent that the destruction of the Horcrux had condemned him to a slow and agonising death. Poppy and I concluded that we were ultimately unable to prevent the spread of the curse and that he had a maximum of a year to live." He met Shacklebolt's eyes again. "He opted to not reveal this to anyone in the Order of the Phoenix because he felt it would destroy morale at such a difficult time. This is also why he used his remaining time to teach Harry Potter as much as he could. By the time the night of his death came, he had three, perhaps four at the most, weeks to live. Those final weeks would have been _agonisingly _painful – imagine being under the Cruciatus Curse for most of that time. He knew he was dying and that he would be dying soon."

"So you're saying that this was a mercy killing?"

"Partly, yes. If you want more evidence about his condition, you can ask Poppy Pomfrey."

Shacklebolt banged a small hammer on a table. "I call Poppy Pomfrey as a witness."

From one section of the audience, Pomfrey stood up.

"Did you share Professor Snape's opinion of how long Dumbledore had left to live?"

"I did. I also concur with what he stated about the levels of pain Dumbledore would have been in."

"Do you believe that Professor Snape's actions saved Dumbledore from that suffering and an agonising death?"

Pomfrey nodded firmly. "Without a doubt."

"Thank you. That will be all." He turned back to the defendant as Pomfrey returned to her seat. "The court understands that Lord Voldemort had a plan in which Draco Malfoy was given the task of committing the murder, that he was about to do so that night when you arrived on the tower. Is this true?"

"It is," confirmed Snape. "Draco was intended to fail at this; it was a punishment for his father's recent failings in the eyes of the Dark Lord, and for his arrest."

"Then why did you not let him continue?"

"Draco Malfoy is many things, but he is not a killer, not a murderer. I could not let his soul be stained with such an horrific act."

"Yet you were willing to do it yourself?" asked a tall, bespectacled wizard with brown hair. His voice was scathing. "I suppose you saw it as a noble sacrifice?"

Snape sighed heavily. "I would not put it in such a way."

"Then how _would _you put it?"

"My soul is tarnished and stained as black as my hair; I had no desire to see the same happen to an innocent child. I have done many, many atrocious things and would not wish that stain or guilt on anyone like Draco, on anyone who is not already tainted."

"Why Draco Malfoy? Why protect him?"

"Why not?" countered Snape. "And who might you be? I have not had the pleasure of your acquaintance."

"Aubrey Hughes. Legal assistant to the Minister."

"Thank you for _finally _informing me of your identity," said Snape sarcastically.

"Just answer the question: why Draco Malfoy?"

"Because he is my godson, as well as being one of my charges as a student in Slytherin House. And because his mother asked me to protect him. I made an Unbreakable Vow with her."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd at this and a number of heads searched the audience for Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa closed her eyes and bowed her head as she remembered that night, when she had begged Severus to make that Vow. Unconsciously, she gripped her son's hand in hers; he rested his head on her shoulder, a silent acknowledgement of, and thanks for, what she had done for him.

"Is Narcissa Malfoy here?" demanded Hughes.

Shaking, Narcissa got to her feet. "I am," she said clearly, sounding considerably braver and calmer than she felt.

"Did you make this Vow of which Snape speaks?" asked Hughes.

"Yes. When – when I found out what the Dark Lord had planned for Draco, I went to see Severus; I needed his help, I needed to know that Draco was protected. I asked Severus to make the Vow." At this, Hughes glanced at Snape, who nodded in confirmation. "He didn't want to do it; he tried to talk me out of it –"

"Why?" asked Hughes, directing the question at Snape. "Why try to dissuade Mrs. Malfoy?"

"I did not think making the Vow to be wise," replied Snape.

"Then why did you not talk her out of it? You can be very persuasive; why did you finally relent?"

"Was anyone else there?" interjected Shacklebolt. "You must have had a Bonder."

"My sister Bellatrix," said Narcissa, practically spitting out the name. "She followed me to Severus's. I didn't want her to come but I couldn't shake her off."

"If Bellatrix had not been present, I believe I would have been able to dissuade Narcissa from making the Vow," continued Snape. "But I had to: it was the only way I could convince Bellatrix that my true allegiance lay with the Dark Lord, not Dumbledore – even though in actuality her suspicions were correct. By then, the Horcrux had been destroyed, the conclusion about Dumbledore's impending death reached, so I saw an opportunity to protect Draco, persuade the necessary people that I had turned away from Dumbledore – and was spying on him and the Order for the Dark Lord – and if things worked out the way Dumbledore and I then planned, I would be ensuring that he had a quick and painless death, rather than a slow and agonising one caused either by the curse or certain followers of the Dark Lord like Fenrir Greyback and Bellatrix Lestrange."

Shacklebolt frowned. "What do you mean, you and Dumbledore planned? Mrs. Malfoy, you may sit."

"After I made the Vow, I told Dumbledore of it. He asked me to kill him when the right time came. I did not wish to go along with this, but I knew that there was no other real option.

"So yes, I did kill Dumbledore in the sense that I was the one to cause his heart to stop beating and his lungs to draw air, but _I did __**not **__murder him_. Even at the last, on the tower, I did not want to go through with it, I was wavering, but he pleaded with me, _begged_ me to follow through. So I did, because I trusted him completely."

Hughes narrowed his eyes at Snape. "An _interesting_ work of fiction – most convenient that the only one who can verify your claim is dead."

"That's not the case," somebody called out from the audience; the crowd gasped as Harry Potter made his way down to the centre of the room, close to Hughes.

"What on Earth do you mean by that? You may be The Boy Who Lived Twice, but that does not mean that your word alone is sufficient."

"Professor Snape gave me his memories; I saw them in a Pensieve. Dumbledore wanted Snape to kill him and Snape didn't want to but he knew that he had to. And of course, who amongst the Death Eaters – and even Voldemort himself – would suspect his true loyalty to be to Dumbledore after this? I once told Scrimgeour that I was Dumbledore's man through and through; well, so is Severus Snape, perhaps even more so than me."

Hughes looked rather taken aback. "I seem to recall it being common knowledge that you desired to see Snape punished for what he had done, for the murder."

"I did," said Harry, "but that was before I knew the whole story. As he was dying, Professor Snape gave me his memories. Once I saw them in the Pensieve, I realised the truth." He paused and turned to Snape. "I'm sorry I called you a coward that night, sir. I didn't know the things I do now. You weren't a coward; I realise now that you're the bravest person I've ever known. Please forgive me." This set off another ripple of murmurs.

Snape met his eyes. "Accepted and forgiven, Potter. Understand that I had to make you think that way."

"I do understand, sir. And – and I think my mother would have felt the same way. I'm sure she'd forgive you, too."

And then, to the shock of everyone present, Severus Snape smiled and tears glistened in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered.

"Touching though this little scene undoubtedly is," cut in Hughes brusquely, "it is deviating considerably from the point. Mr. Potter, please return to your seat."

"I am willing to undergo questioning with Veritaserum, if you feel it would help your case," offered Snape neutrally.

Hughes, thought Narcissa, looked extremely torn – if he now opted to _not _use the most powerful of truth potions, he would face accusations of attempts to pervert the course of justice and rendering the trial unfair whatever the verdict, but at the same time it meant there was more chance of a guilty verdict being returned. If he chose to use it, he clearly feared that Snape would repeat what he had already said, proving what he and Harry Potter had already stated. Narcissa desperately hoped that he would opt for the potion.

Hughes turned to Shacklebolt. "Minister, what do _you _think?" he asked.

Shacklebolt shrugged. "I don't particularly mind either way. However, there is an alternative."

"There is?"

"Yes. A few years ago, a group of Muggleborn Hogwarts students – Ravenclaws, unsurprisingly – developed a way of showing Muggle movies to their friends who had grown up in the wizarding world, without the need for all the difficulties encountered when attempting to use Muggle electronics. They simply connected a Pensieve, containing the memory of the entire movie, without error because that is what is buried in the subconscious part of the brain, to some kind of orb that projected the movie onto a wall or screen. I understand that they are in the final stages of patenting it. I believe it is called the Memory Projector or somesuch. I know that at least one of its creators was intending to be here today. Are they?"

Two young women stood up and the redheaded one waved to draw attention to them. "We even have one here with us," she added. They made their way down to the centre and set up their invention. Journalists were frantically scribbling about this new creation and everyone else was transfixed by it. Narcissa glanced at her husband and son, amused by the fascinated expressions on their faces; then she caught sight of Arthur Weasley, an identical expression on his face and practically drooling.

Her next look was to Severus; their eyes met and there was a small, triumphant smile on his lips. Narcissa smiled back encouragingly.

"Is this really necessary?" demanded Hughes. "What exactly is wrong with Veritaserum? Snape even _offered _to take it!"

"You once told me you didn't trust him even when heavily dosed with it," Shacklebolt reminded him, "even though all the research ever done indicates that you cannot build up a tolerance to it like you can with some poisons. With this method, there is no control over how things are said, and additionally, it will be very obvious if attempts have been, or are being, made to tamper with them."

Narcissa let a satisfied smirk plant itself firmly on her lips when Hughes scowled. He had been in the same year as her at school; his arrogance and sense of self-importance had been bad then, but now it was far worse. She and her fellow Slytherins had relished taking him down a few pegs each term – or at least attempting to do so – and on a few occasions, had been joined by equally annoyed Hufflepuffs who had got fed up of his superior and patronising attitude towards their House. Lucius tore his eyes away from the device being set up long enough to see the scowl and he reached across to touch his wife's hand. "Such a pleasant sight," he murmured. Hughes had been his biggest rival at school so there was no love lost between them, either. He straightened up when it was apparent that the device was ready to go.

"We will view the memories one at a time," Shacklebolt informed the roomful. "I would like to see the point at which you learn that Voldemort is appointing Draco Malfoy to carry out the task of murdering Dumbledore." He released the chains around one of Snape's wrists and handed the Potion Master's old wand to him.

"What the hell are you letting him have a _wand _for?" yelled the young man who had earlier called Snape a liar.

Shacklebolt nodded to two security wizards, who efficiently removed the man from the room. "Severus, if you would, please?"

Obligingly, Snape extracted the memory from the Pensieve; the redheaded ex-Ravenclaw put the cloudy blue orb into the Pensieve, where it started spinning and then projected the memory onto a screen. The courtroom watched in silence as Snape and Voldemort stood in a small, dimly-lit room, Nagini slithering around their feet…

**~TBC~**


	3. Chapter 2

In response to the comments left by **no-name**: firstly, I did not say that Shacklebolt was correct in his statement about building up immunity to Veritaserum (and given that Hughes is the legal assistant, perhaps he is more likely to be the one with the facts?) and also, surely his decision to not use it suggests that he's a bit unsure about the immunity thing? As for giving Snape a wand – if he's really trying to present himself in the best possible way and get the best possible outcome for himself, attacking people in the middle of his trial would be stupid and, quite frankly, suicide. It's the sort of thing Bellatrix would try because she's completely insane and irrational, but Snape is intelligent and practical, and knows better than to try a stunt like that. Do you really think he'd be that stupid? Plus there's the matter of trust: if Shacklebolt demonstrates to Snape that the court does trust him to behave, he's more likely to trust them (as much as the poor guy can trust anyone) and co-operate than if they made it clear that they don't trust him. And as you'll see from this chapter, there are certain pieces of information that Harry did not know about; how else do you suggest the court obtain those?

With the memories, it makes sense to get them directly from Snape – in any form of trial there is all that can be done to get information from a primary source. By getting them from Harry, a secondary source, you're reducing the reliability of information and also limiting it to what he saw, whereas if they get it directly from Snape, there'll be more information. Just out of curiosity, is there anything about this story that you _did _like? Because just pointing out perceived mistakes (which, as you'll hopefully realise from what I've said above, were anything but mistakes) isn't exactly the well-rounded review that the review box advises. And why the anonymity? In terms of fanfic, authors tend to be more dismissive of such reviews anyway.

And now, the final section.

"_Yet again Albus Dumbledore has thwarted me!" hissed Voldemort. "I have a solution, however: Draco Malfoy has been selected to carry out the task of his murder."_

_Snape frowned slightly. "Draco, my lord? The boy has never had to do anything remotely near this difficult; do you think he is capable?"_

_Voldemort's red eyes flared with anger. "You question my judgement, Severusss?"_

_Hastily, Snape shook his head. "Never, my lord."_

"_Goooood. I will confess that it is no easy task, but it will demonstrate his worthiness for and his commitment to our cause." He nodded briskly. "You may go, Severus."_

_Snape bowed his head respectfully, then turned and left the room._

"That will do," Shacklebolt quietly told the redhead; the witch tapped the orb smartly with her wand and it stopped spinning, enabling her to remove it from the Pensieve.

"Mrs. Malfoy? The court needs to see the period of time between you leaving for Snape's and when you departed from his house after the Vow was made," requested Shacklebolt.

"Of course, Minister." Narcissa hurried down to the Pensieve and placed her memory into it…

When the scene had finished, Shacklebolt thanked her and she returned to her seat, to be met with her son uncharacteristically flinging himself into her arms. She held him tightly. "Draco, dear, whatever's the matter?" she asked anxiously, oblivious to the stares from everyone else.

He buried his face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mum," he mumbled. "I've been so stupid! You did everything you could to protect me and I was _horrible _to you for it. I'll _never _be able to make it up to you!"

Narcissa ran her hand comfortingly over his hair. "Ssshhh, don't you worry about that. We all do stupid things when we're young, things we come to regret later. I forgive you."

"Though you could get her a box of her favourite chocolates anyway," suggested Lucius, smirking a little. "It is _amazing _what you can get forgiven for if you get her those chocolates."

Narcissa raised one of her eyebrows archly. "You still aren't forgiven for what you did to my ballgown at Bella's twenty-first birthday."

Draco looked up at her. "What did he do?"

"Never you mind," growled Narcissa, narrowing her eyes at her husband.

"Looks like you'll be getting _two _boxes of chocolates soon, then, Cissy," commented Lucius, averting his gaze.

Narcissa stuck her tongue out at him before placing her hands on their son's shoulders. "Draco, I did all I could to protect you and I was able to do that; that's reward enough."

An irritated Hughes pointedly cleared his throat; the Malfoys hastily sat down, though not before Lucius glared at him. Hughes appeared to wither slightly under the glare and Lucius smirked.

"Severus, the meeting you had with Dumbledore when you told him of the Vow and you arranged his death, please," requested Shacklebolt. Again, Snape obliged and the crowd watched.

When that had finished, Snape cleared his throat. "If I may add another memory as a follow-on to this? There was a point when I strongly desired to not go through with the plan, when Dumbledore persuaded me to stay with it."

Hughes spluttered, "I don't think –"

"Yes please, Severus," interrupted Shacklebolt. "It sounds like something the court should hear."

That memory was shown, followed by the night of Dumbledore's death. Unable to watch, Draco buried his face in his mother's shoulders again and she held him close, exchanging pained looks with her husband. How had she let her child get into such a desperate state? It would be a long time before she would be able to forgive herself for the indoctrination she had allowed him to undergo.

The final scene was one Harry Potter recognised: Dumbledore's portrait telling Snape what to do with Gryffindor's sword and how to get it to The Boy Who Lived (Twice).

When it was over, Shacklebolt nodded at the young witch. "Thank you, Esmeralda. I rather think this device will become a standard part of trials in the future. We have seen enough now." He turned to the Wizengamot. "You have seen the evidence for yourselves. We can, if you wish, also use Veritaserum, as has already been suggested."

A wizard at the front got to his feet. "That will not be necessary, Minister. We would like a little time to confer."

"Permission granted."

The courtroom was abuzz with chatter as the Wizengamot left for their private discussion chamber. Narcissa listened to the conversations around her: most people no longer knew what to think – so many had been certain of Snape's absolute guilt before the start of the trial. Draco was nervously chewing his fingernails.

Someone tapped Narcissa's shoulder; she was shocked to see her other sister, Andromeda, there. "_Annie_? What do you want?"

"Stand up," the older witch ordered. When her sister obeyed, Andromeda pulled her into a tight embrace. "I am _so proud _of you, little sis! All these years I thought you were a cold-hearted bitch who relished her position as a trophy wife and distant mother; you can't begin to understand how glad I am today!"

Confused, Narcissa returned the hug awkwardly. "But Dumbledore still died…"

"You saw and heard just now what really happened! Between the three of you, Draco was protected completely. I didn't think you had it in you."

"Er – thanks…Look, I'm – I'm sorry about your daughter…"

Tears glistened in Andromeda's eyes. "She – she didn't die in vain. And she left something – you're a great-aunt now, to little Teddy."

Narcissa grasped her hands. "Can we start again, rebuild our relationship?" The world around them seemed to fade into the background.

Andromeda glanced at Lucius, a hint of distaste in her face. "I'm certainly willing to _try_." She gestured around the room. "Nobody knows what to make of all this. I'm actually hoping he gets cleared, if you can believe that."

"I think he deserves a chance of redemption," said Narcissa. "As do all of us. Not people like Bella, or Mulciber, or any of those who died truly believing in the Dark Lord's cause. But some of us – some of us lost our faith in him over time, after we saw what happened to our families."

"You mean yourself." It was not a question.

"Yes. Once _he _chose Draco for that task, I knew that we were being punished for Lucius's errors. How could I continue honestly following him after that? I didn't care about his cause any more. I am many things, Annie, some of which aren't very nice, but the first thing I am, above and beyond anything else, is a mother. If I had been in Lily Potter's situation that night, I wouldn't have thought twice about it – I would have done exactly the same thing. And although he'd never admit it, I'm certain that Lucius would, too."

Four and a half hours later, there was an announcement that the Wizengamot had reached a verdict. Breathless with anticipation, journalists and members of the public alike hurried back into the courtroom. Snape was brought in and he sat down on the chair again. To Narcissa, he seemed ominously calm: _He's probably resigned himself to a life sentence in Azkaban_, she thought grimly to herself. She closed her eyes and prayed – to who or what, she had no idea – for a miracle to happen.

The Wizengamot filed in silently and the wizard who had spoken before, stepped forward.

"Do you have a verdict?" asked Shacklebolt.

"Yes, Minister. We find Severus Snape not guilty of the murder of Albus Dumbledore."

The crowd gasped. Narcissa slumped in relief against her husband. Even Shacklebolt looked a little startled. "Is there a crime you _do _find him guilty of?"

"We considered manslaughter but that was not appropriate," answered the spokeswizard. "After considerable time perusing the law, we could find nothing applicable to such extraordinary circumstances. We conclude that this is a case, ultimately, of euthanasia – what the Muggles call 'mercy killing'. There is no legislation for this in the British wizarding world."

Shacklebolt looked across to Hughes. "Aubrey? Is this true?"

Hughes nodded. "It is, Minister."

"Continue."

"As this is so unusual, we looked at the evidence presented to us through the Memory Projector. We have concluded that the only fair thing to do is for Professor Snape to be released and cleared of all charges. What we have witnessed in these memories and testimonies leads us to believe Professor Snape: believe that he was Dumbledore's man, as Mr. Potter put it, believe that Dumbledore was to die in the way that Snape stated, believe that Mrs. Malfoy wanted to do all she could to protect her son, believe that Snape did what he could in the extraordinary and unprecedented circumstances in which he found himself. Furthermore, if he wishes to return to the Hogwarts faculty, we see no reason to prevent him from doing so."

Shacklebolt blinked twice, slowlytaking this in. "Well," he said, "in that case, you are free to go, Severus." He released the chains around Snape's wrists. "What do you plan to do now?"

"If they will have me," replied Snape quietly, "I would like to return to Hogwarts and my post as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher – I assume that now the Dark Lord is truly dead, the curse on the position died with him." His dark eyes scanned the crowd. "But that depends upon who the headteacher is. Being shut away in Azkaban does tend to limit access to such information."

"Professor McGonagall is to take over," Shacklebolt informed him. "Minerva, could you please come down here?"

The new Headmistress did as requested and stood directly in front of Snape, meeting his eyes. "It would be a pleasure and an honour to accept your request," she told him sincerely. "I must admit that I was never entirely convinced of your guilt."

Snape gave her a slight, warm smile. "Thank you, Minerva. Your words mean a great deal to me. What is to happen about Potions and Transfiguration?"

"We have received a number of applicants for both and are due to begin interviewing next week. We can discuss this more outside of this room."

Silence fell as Harry Potter came forward, stopping just in front of Snape with his hand outstretched as a peace offering. "Justice prevailed, sir," he said clearly. "And I'm glad that the whole wizarding world will know the truth about everything you did."

Snape accepted the proffered hand and shook it. "Do you honestly believe that Lily would have forgiven me?" he whispered, for once a hint of emotion in his quiet voice.

"Undoubtedly," Harry told him firmly. "When your time comes to leave this world, she'll be there to tell you so herself." He was not lying; he truly believed what he was saying.

Snape bit his lip and gestured to the room. "None of this matters to me, all the public legal things. All I want – all I _need, _is Lily's forgiveness."

"And you have it. It's in your heart."

The former headmaster nodded. "I feel redeemed now. You remind me so much of her in how you are to people, even people like me. Maybe – maybe at some point you would visit me at Hogwarts? There is so much I could tell you about her."

Harry smiled, tears in his eyes. "Thank you, sir. I'd like that." He then hastily stepped aside as something blonde and female hurled itself at Snape.

"Cissa!" squawked Snape, stumbling backwards under the momentum of her hug. "_Again _you try to prevent me from breathing! I do hope – that this will not… Ah, that's better."

"Sorry," apologised Narcissa. "I'm just so pleased that you're free!"

"Why, because it lets you off the hook?" a woman's voice acidly enquired from just behind her.

Narcissa spun round on her heel and snatched the quill out of the fingers of a very startled Rita Skeeter. "Sod off, Skeeter!" she hissed, blue eyes flashing. "If you do not leave _right this minute_, I will shove this quill so far up where the sun doesn't shine that not even the best healers at St. Mungo's could retrieve it."

"Is that a threat?" challenged the reporter.

"No," replied Narcissa sweetly. "It's a promise." And she crushed the quill under her foot. Skeeter hastily scuttled off; satisfied, Narcissa smirked. Then she turned back to the freed man and took him firmly by the arm. "Come on, Severus, it's time I got you sorted out with some new robes – your old ones are in a _dreadful _state and you're far too skinny and lanky for Lucius's to fit you."

Rolling his eyes, Snape allowed himself to be led off, Narcissa still chattering away. He had had a chance of redemption, and it had been successful.

~fin~


End file.
